WILD WINGS 



ides of March see the woodcock 

 back in its northern home, and in early 

 April it prepares for nesting. The question of 

 the nest itself is a very simple matter, being 

 only a cavity, formed by the pressure of the mother's 

 body, among the moss and dead leaves. The formalities 

 of courtship are, however, quite another thing, and the 

 execution of interesting aerial dances entails much effort 

 and time. 



It is in the dusk of evening that the male woodcock 

 begins his song, plaintive notes uttered at regular inter- 

 vals, and sounding like peent ! peent ! Then without 

 warning he launches himself on a sharply ascending spiral, 

 his wings whistling through the gloom. Higher and higher 

 he goes, balances a moment, and finally descends abruptly, 

 with zigzag rushes, wings and voice both aiding each other 



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